


Darkness Rising

by Adam_Yozza



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Violence, Heist, Magic, Swords & Sorcery, idk you tell me what to put up here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23639023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adam_Yozza/pseuds/Adam_Yozza
Summary: James Bower used to be normal. Then one day his world was torn appart and all of a sudden a brand new world was being reveleaded. One where people had extraordinary powers. Powers he's told he has as well.But with only a former war hero turned functional-alcoholic for help and the mysterious Jake Black hunting him down, James is thrown into a world of magic, monsters and soon-to-be-resurrected Dark Lords.History homework didn't seem too bad with hindsight.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Darkness Rising

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first chapter of the first book of a planned trilogy (not sure if 'Darkness Rising' is the series title or book or...But whatever. To tell the truth I'm not sure I'll ever post the full thing on here, but I'm looking for some feedback so pls leave a review if you liked and if you didn't...well still leave a review anyway and tell me what was wrong.

‘You’re late,’ the boy said.

Falion Wrath growled as he dropped down from the tree branches to land beside the boy, wondering how he’d been detected. He knew he’d made no mistakes. As a killer-for-hire a mistake could cost your life and Wrath had been in the business for thirty years. His mistakes had been hammered out early. But the boy had known he was there without even turning around.

‘How?’

He chuckled slightly and turned to face him. Clad in all in black and standing framed against the shimmering sunrise he was little more than a silhouette even to Wrath’s enhanced eyes. The only feature he could see was the boy’s eyes, a swirling mix of black and volcanic orange. In that moment he somehow appeared even more sinister than he normally did. Wrath had faced dangerous enemies from all over the world and wasn’t a man to feel fear easily. But even being in the presence of Jake Black set his skin crawling.

‘No one can hide from me,’ Black said. He grinned and Wrath swore the eyes glowed faintly. ‘Remember that, if anyone else makes you a better offer.’

Wrath shivered. He’d remember for the rest of his life.

Black turned back and stared down the hill to the train tracks below. He was silent for a moment, as if he was listening to something.

‘You almost missed our train,’ he said eventually.

Wrath turned to him in confusion. The train wasn’t due for another hour. He knew better than to correct Black but had to wonder whether his mind was finally starting to collapse. Then he heard it, faint and distant. The screeching of wheels on the tracks, a high pitched whistle. The ground beneath his feet trembled ever so slightly. A normal person wouldn’t have noticed any of it. The fact that Black had detected it before his own superior senses had set his teeth on edge and he once again found himself curious as to what exactly the boy was.

A question for another time. Their target was approaching. 

‘They changed the timetable,’ Wrath said.

Black snorted. ‘They’re paranoid about this stuff. With good reason.’ He rested his hand on the hilt of the sword ever present at his side and moved to the edge. Wrath stepped up beside him.

The grinding of the train’s wheels grew louder and louder until it was almost deafening and the rumbling increased until the ground was physically vibrating. A few seconds later and the sound suddenly became muted and there was an echo attached to it. The tree’s around them shook. The train was in the tunnel beneath them. 

Wrath lowered him into a crouch while Black bent his knees. Wrath could see the muscles in his legs had tensed beneath the fabric of his trousers. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, fixed on the tracks leading out of the tunnel. The shadows on the tracks were destroyed by a bright light spilling out of the tunnel.

‘Now!’

Wrath leaped high into the air and drew his curved daggers as gravity took hold and pulled him towards the tracks below. He could sense Black falling next to him. For a brief moment, with the ground hurtling ever closer, Wrath worried that Black had misjudged the timing.

Then the train shot out of the tunnel. Wrath landed atop a carriage and stabbed his daggers through the roof and used them as an anchor to prevent himself from being thrown off instantly. Black had drawn his sword at the last second and plunged it through the steel of the carriage to do the same.

Wrath took a second to regain his bearings. They’d landed on the fourth carriage. Their target was in the first. With a brief glance at the Black, Wrath hauled himself to his feet, arms held out beside him to secure his balance and then set off along the train, jumping carriage to carriage until he was on top of the one they needed.

He dropped down between the carriages and stepped as far to the side as he could without falling to allow Black to stand in front of the door. Black glanced at him. He nodded. Black nodded back and drew his sword. Black slashed diagonally across the door in both directions, the motion quicker than Wrath could follow with his eyes and spun on his heel, slamming his boot into the shredded door and sending it flying inwards. There was shout of alarm and a pained groan.

As soon as Black kicked the door he stepped back and Wrath rushed forwards, through the doorway. One man was slumped lifelessly against the far wall and another was pinned by the broken door. Eight others were still standing and they turned to face him. Some looked panicked. Others looked perfectly calm. All them were ready to fight. 

It made no difference.

The closest man didn’t even get a chance to fully register what was happening. Wrath had thrown one of his daggers instantly and with a wet squelch found it’s mark in the middle of the man’s forehead. The second managed to raise his pistol and fire a shot but Wrath easily dodged to the side, darted forward and closed a fist around the man’s hand, squeezing. Bones crunched and Wrath wrenched the gun out of the ruined hand, slashing his dagger across the poor fool’s throat. 

The third guard lasted slightly longer. She was young, looking to be barely out of school, and wielded a metal bow staff. She used the range effectively, jabbing towards his face and then pulling the staff back and swinging for his sides or legs instead. At one point, Wrath thought he saw an opening and launched an attack, swinging for her face but she sidestepped and used the staff to disarm him of his knife. 

Wrath growled at that. He glared at her and after a moments focus shifted his hands. His nails elongated into claws, the bones broke and reshaped themselves, the muscles thickened and grew and bulged out unnaturally. As the staff was sent towards his face he grabbed and yanked it, hauling the guard towards him. He raked his claws across her belly with one hand and grabbed her around the throat with another, lifting and slamming her into the roof of the carriage. He threw her unmoving figure into the wall. She slumped to the ground and didn’t move again.

Turning, Wrath saw that Black had dealt with the other five. Three were lying on the ground, obviously dead and the other two were on the back foot. One of them, a tall lanky youth, summoned a fireball to his hand and fired it at Black, but the boy just let it impact his sword. Charging it as well, Wrath realized as he saw the runes lit up with a blood red light. Black sheathed his sword and dashed forward, drawing the blade and slashing downward in one motion and then swinging his sword out to the side as his target side stepped the first attack, the second cutting through his side. 

Black turned to the last guard and swung without hesitation. The guard managed to parry the first attack and dodge the second, but never saw Black’s sheathe before it slammed into his head, sending him to the ground. Black reversed his grip on the sword into a backhanded grip and with a grin raised it above his head. The man on the ground held his hands up in surrender, but Black simply brought the sword down into his chest. 

With a disturbing callousness, Black placed a foot on the dead man and yanked the sword out of his chest. He stalked over to the man who had been pinned by the door and was now trying to push himself to his feet. Black lashed his sword out across the man’s throat. With a gurgle the man slumped to the ground dead.

With a dramatic spin, Black returned his sword to his sheathe. 

‘That was disappointing. I was hoping for more of a challenge.’ Wrath wasn’t entirely sure why but the statement seemed genuine to him. Black motioned at the safe in the corner of the carriage. ‘Break that open and search for the journals. I’ll take care of the driver.’

With that Black yanked open the other door and leapt up onto the back of the train car. With a snarl, Wrath set to breaking the safe open. It rankled him to take orders from the boy but he dared not disobey. The money he was being paid was incentive enough alone and Black’s response to perceived disloyalty would surely be vicious. 

Wrath had barely managed to pry one side of the safe door open before he heard the squeal of the brakes and felt the train begin to slow. But even once the train came to a stop Black did not return. So Wrath continued with his task. He dug his claws between the safe door and frame and yanked, curling all four sides outwards and then pulling. The door broke off with a violent screech. 

There was only one thing inside. Three old battered books. The covers were faded and Wrath could barely tell what colour they had been. The pages seemed to be made of parchment and were yellowed with age. Some were clearly torn loose and simply stuffed back in at the appropriate place. Wrath shifted his hands back to normal and lifted the books out with care and opened the first of them to somewhere in the middle. He didn’t recognise the writing but he was sure his employer would. Wrath grinned. He withdrew a bag and delicately placed the books inside.

He left the carriage and jumped down onto the ground. Leaves and twigs crunched under his boots as he made his way towards the front car. Between the hills and mountains of the valley he could see glimmers of gold as the sun continued to rise. 

Black was sitting on the steps of the front car as Wrath arrived, running a red cloth over the blade. Black’s sword was an interesting piece of weaponry. A single edged sabre made of a pitch black metal that could cut clean through near anything, the sword was used in a quickdraw style of attack. Black would draw the sword, attack and then return it to its sheath. It was an odd technique but Wrath knew that Black poured his magic into the leather of his sheathe and the motion of drawing it charged the sword as much as blocking attacks did. 

‘Did you get them?’ Black asked. He stood and sheathed his sword. 

‘All three. Idiots kept them all in one place.’

‘I’m sure Bray and Julius would have changed that if they could. Those journals are spelled. They can’t be kept more than five feet apart. No one’s ever broken that particular enchantment,’ Black said.

Wrath blinked.

Black smirked at him. 

‘What’s the matter? Did someone forget to do their home...’ Black’s eyes widened. ‘Move!’

Black shoved him to the side just as the first gunshot rang out. Black drew his sword and caught the shot on the blade, the runes lighting up again. Wrath turned and saw the girl who’d used the staff limping forwards, pistol in her hand. The girl fired a second and then a third time, Black blocking both bullets with ease. But as she raised the gun to try for a fourth shot, the world grew darker. Colour seemed to seep out of everything and it grew cold. 

The runes on Black’s sword grew even brighter and his eyes were glowing an evil looking orange. With a yell he swung his sword in a downward slash through the air in front of him and a wave of pure, black destruction was sent hurtling from the sword, towards the girl. 

When Wrath’s vision cleared there was nothing but ash where the girl had been. Black stumbled, breathing heavily and sweating. He sheathed his sword and grabbed Wrath’s shoulder. 

‘Come on,’ he said, breathlessly. Up close, Wrath could see his pupils had dilated and the hand on his shoulder was trembling. A second later and Wrath felt as though Black’s unique mode of transport begin. He had a second to flinch before he was being taken apart cell by cell and reassembled somewhere else. He hated this part.

********

On the other side of the world, a school bell rang and James Bower snapped awake with a start.


End file.
